


The Buzzing of Flies

by TheTentacleCommander



Series: The Devil's Saga series extras [5]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blackmail, Character Death, Child Murder, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fridge Horror, Horror, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mental Breakdown, Monsters, Multi, Old work, Origin Story, Past Underage, Raccoon City, Secret Relationship, Side Story, Survivor Guilt, Teen Pregnancy, Two Shot, Umbrella Corporation, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence, being watched
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:16:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTentacleCommander/pseuds/TheTentacleCommander
Summary: Lots of plot filling in gaps between the AU and RE3 centering around Brad Vickers.Inspired by song:Chelsea Wolfe - Carrion Flowers





	1. The Buzzing of Flies -1-

“I could have made him stop. But, you chose to refuse my deal and so both of their blood is on your hands. Pity.” The voice on the pay phone reverberated with cold finality in his ear. Brad could only sink to his knees, the receiver swaying and echoing the droning dial-tone.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _Thank God. I finally got onto the team. Finally, I have something good to write home about to ya, ma! Guess what? I get to fly like I've always said I would. Yeah, I can see you now, making that face. But I'm not a soldier, I just fly. The sky never hurt anyone. I feel like a free bird when I fly. Like an eagle, any plane glides easily in the sky under my hands. I can conquer anything as long as I can fly.  
  
 ~~And then I found a bluebird, dancing around in her bright skirts, her cheer as beautiful as her smile. Oh, I forgot to mention her-~~_  
  
A hand quickly leans down to erase the last two sentences; before furiously balling up the paper before tossing it into the wastebasket. The new arrival met with a few other discarded letters to the cadence of a pen tapping on a wood surface.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
35364.vid  
  
The flicker of tracking lines almost detracted from the video; a man is seen skiddishly looking around the small office. He picked up a framed picture off the desk while combing nervously through his brown hair. Strewn around the office were posters and plaques depicting RPD department insignia as well as one that stuck out brighter than the rest for the separate S.T.A.R.S. department. He had turned the small silver framed photo around in his visibly shaking hands – containing a small family shot with a large bear of a man sticking out prominently - As the man fiddled with the small picture in his hand, a reflection beamed the camera flooding it temporarily with lens flare.  
  
For a moment, the man glanced directly into the camera, trying to figure out what he was staring at. As he rose to glare closer, the door opened and the man could only turn towards the new visitor. The clip then began to track thicker lines across the screen, making either person hard to make out.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _She's in my mind like teasing snapshots; fleeting images, her smiles buzzing in my head. I...I need to brush them away. I'm just on patrols now, ma. Nothing serious. Nothing can hurt you in a city. Your good old boy is keeping his nose clean, and everything smelling like roses.  
  
Ugh, I'm never going to get anything done thinking like this.  
  
She makes me feel so awkward...how is her smile able to brighten my day? Why do I feel like a trail of Delucia roses should grow behind her gorgeous legs after she crosses a crosswalk? Ma, I think I'm lovestruck._   
  
  
XxxxX  
  
Sept281998.vid  
  
The outside of Jack's Bar is in view; seen inside through the front glass a man in a yellow vest is desperately trying to tell a woman in more casual wear something by the animated way he is waving his arms. One can faintly make out the sounds of the conversation but not the specific words.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _I was assigned to the main PD office today, ma. Something about approving plane permits or something. I dunno why they want me to do this stuff, I just fly planes and even though have the training for it, don't see how this town needs my help on making decisions on these things. Irons though isn't a guy you ignore as much as I want to. Gotta kept your nose clean near him. The only other person I don't wanna piss off is the Captain. No, no one wants to be on his bad side. Not even Chris. Redfield's a good guy, but he's going to get demoted if he doesn't stop fighting with him.  
  
Tch. Not my problem anyway.  
  
But ma, I was walking and this kid just up and bumps me! Like how rude are kids today? He just up and laughed at me! And then I saw it...a trail of red. Her hair; her arm around his. And then I like the coward I am just ran to the PD as fast as I could. Fast so I can go to the bathroom and collect myself._  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _Hi, ma. Work's okay. Just doing my aerial patrols. Everything is fine. Pay is great. Maybe you should visit someday. Yeah, you should.  
  
 ~~Fuck.~~  
  
I need a drink.   
  
No wait, I tried that. I went to the bar, Jesus that one girl. She was so beautiful. That red hair was all I could remember. It looked familiar; her face. I waved; you would've been proud ma, I didn't wimp out! I could actually meet someone, you know. Don't-_  
  
The man pushed away from his desk, a half-written letter that will probably end up like his other letters, tossed into his filling trash can. He could only fiddle with the name tag in his hand. He was sober now, and with sobriety could see her clearly or at least as clear as her ID was. He had taken to rifling in her pockets as she slept on his couch, a knitted S.T.A.R.S. issue blanket covering her form.  
  
All he could see was the dates that smudged on the clearly doctored ID. He could only look towards her; so beautiful a liar.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
35366.vid  
  
A clearly troubled man splashes water on his face. He takes a deep inhale before muttering to himself: “I'll just turn myself in. That's the right thing to do. No one saw me leave with her right? I'll just let her shower, and take her home.” He stood around fretting before he suddenly jumped. Smaller hands hugged him before smiling up at him.  
  
The man went to open his mouth in surprise, and push away those small arms but a soft laugh had him freeze on the spot. She then kissed him on the cheek, only for her to walk away and crank on the shower.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _We need to stop this.  
  
How can she be okay with this? Is it because I'm older? I'm just an over-glorified city cop! I went to stop this, ma. I truly did. I think, she thinks this is all a game. A game like you'd see on the TV. But, it isn't. It isn't right.  
  
But I love her.  
  
I want to not hurt her. Ma, I tried; I'm not lying!? I was like, 'Gwen, this is inappropriate.' Then she'd accuse me of being like her dad and we'd argue about why things should or shouldn't change. At least that's what I expected today.  
  
But, then she told me, no, showed me the small plastic thing. She was freaking out all day. What would she tell her parents? I told her, I told her I'd be honorable and stick my neck out, job be damned. I'll get a record but after some jail time, I can take care of her. But she told me no. She had it all figured out._   
  
  
XxxxX  
  
That rude boy from the crosswalk days before is here; seems he has a record. I watched as Jill booked him for yet again causing a fight at school. Why are we doing all these regular beat jobs? Well, it seems not much goes on in sleepy Raccoon. I don't mind. Sleepy is good. Sleepy means quiet. Sleepy means no hassle and little noise. I was doing desk duty again; I looked with the corner of my eye as Valentine uncuffed him, letting him get off with a lesser 'public nuisance' charge.  
  
That kid needs to land in Juvie. Was the place full? I kept quiet though. Sleepy towns meant quiet. I like that. The kid rose up with his shock of sandy blonde hair flipping her off behind the quickly retreating officer's back as he rose. A gloved hand caught the boy's shoulder; that shoulder sagged, in fact, the full demeanor of that boy changed into nothing but silence.  
  
Captain Wesker has that effect on people. So much so that Jill had near disappeared when he arrived. There was a bad vibe there, but again none of my business. I only watched as the Captain escorted the boy out into the waiting arms of  _her_. My fist started to clench as that stupid kid rubbed her belly. I wanted to just punch him. Wanted to, I would've, I should have!  
  
Then, as the two began to leave, her hair cascaded as she quickly turned back her face smiling at me, before turning away. I could only whisper under my breath her name,  _Gwen. My Gwen._  I longingly glared at the window long after the two had left, before the slam of a stack of paperwork brought me out of my stupor.  
  
I could only look up and see myself reflected in the shades of our Captain. And I wondered then, did he know? Did he know I'm doing things with a girl 14 years my junior?  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
“He's hunting for us, Jill! We have to get out of here, survivors be damned!”  
  
I am near begging her to just head to the outskirts with me. This place had long been screwed. She stayed because of this fool crusade against  _U_ mbrella. Doesn't she know how big they are? They can hire any ol' body and poof, you are gone! I know...that's why ma isn't responding to me anymore. Her letters were sent to me in Umbrella headed envelopes. They got to her.  
  
 _Ma...  
  
No, he got to her. He got to everyone. I should've done what he said..._  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
I looked down and saw it all happen in the comfort of the cockpit of the chopper. Joseph didn't stand a chance. None of them did in hindsight. My stomach turned. And by doing this, I made sure of it. I looked down to the small palm-sized photo in my pocket. I pull it out to remind myself why I am doing this, why I am listening to him.  
  
And so I powered up my old gal and lifted the chopper back into the night air. My hands were shaking. I could see the head of Chris turning upward; his yells covered up by the fast spinning blades as I flew away.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _From: annon@blank-mail.net  
To: Bvickers@cityofrpd.gov  
Date: July 14, 1998  
Subject: <blank>  
  
<password encrypted attachment contains 6 .jpeg files and one .notepad file; password will be sent in a separate email>  
  
Sept1992.jpeg A photo of Brad drunkenly swaggering out of  Jack's Bar.  
  
May1993.jpeg A photo of the back of what looks to be an apartment complex. A red-haired woman and Brad were intimately leaning against each other, his hand on her swollen belly.  
  
Jan1996.jpeg A picture of a child about two years old toddling towards a blond haired man's arm, the boy looking himself no older than 18.  
  
Feb1997.jpeg A copy of a birth certificate of a Tomas F. Haddens.  
  
July1998.jpeg  A picture showing the same redhead from the earlier photo older and leaving Brad's apartment.  
  
Directions.txt_  
  
Brad was terrified of what the email contained so far. So far, someone was watching him confirming the suspicions he had for a while now. He just didn't expect to be followed so thoroughly. He was already terrified to read what demands were in store for him. But he didn't want Gwen or Tomas to get hurt. Not over a chickenshit like him.  
  
 _I could really use your advice now, Ma._  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
From: annon@blank-mail.net  
To: Bvickers@cityofrpd.gov  
Date: Aug 12, 1998  
Subject: <blank>  
  
 _Did you like keeping your job?  
  
See, following directions isn't so bad. We had to make sure you could be trusted. We'll even excuse your rebellion in flying back towards the end. Next time, we won't be as lenient._   
  
Chief Irons seems more than willing to let things go as they were as long as I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want anything more to do with  _U_ mbrella. I have a family to support. I'm sure as shit Trent wasn't going to. I didn't want to remember the screams. I didn't want to remember the snarls of the dogs. I...I didn't want to remember the near silence in the plane.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
<<Brad's Cellphone>>  
  
Inbox (2/18)  
  
From: Gwen  
….........................  
R u there? Haven't heard from u in a few days?  
….........................  
Date: Aug 10. 1998 12:39 pm  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
35367.vid   
  
"Tra Tra can you not catch a hint!" A woman clothed in a waitress outfit hissed at a disheveled man, his dirty blond hair hanging in his face, clearly annoyed at the drunk patron. She pulled back her red hair into a messy ponytail. The three were it looked to be in the back of a bar alley, J's Bar, in fact, standing around and having a heated conversation.  
  
"What babes, Jill's upset. Some joker has been hurting you? Who Jill? Tell me and I'll fuck up his face. It better not be that Redfield, I can so take him out."  
  
"Trent, this isn't the time to joke-"  
  
"Our captain hurt me. He…he hurt me." The camera pans towards the quieter speaker, her voice hinting at near disbelief. The near traumatized tone to her voice pitched to a sharp, betrayed and angry tone as the next sentence came out,   
  
"And Chris is doing nothing about it…Nothing at all."  
  
"What. What did he do Jill. Fuck, was it that prick boss you keep complaining about!?" The loud crack of glass amongst brick was audibly heard as the sound accompanied the drunk man looking no older than 20. "I'll gut him Jill; just like this. Your boy aint gunna do a damn thing? Fucking pussy that Redfield!?"   
  
"Trent calm down...you'll get us kicked out."  
  
"Calm down?! Your girl over there is like five shades from crying her eyes out due to some creep touching her and you want me to calm down!?"  
  
"Trent you are drunk. Screaming and hollering isn't going to solve anything."  
  
"Fuck that shit Gwen! Stupid shit is going down and you are just letting it go!! Fuck that. I'ma go be a man and solve shit unlike her bitch boyfriend!"  
  
"Trent. You know I hate it when you get like this. You promised to control you temper. Please. Not now."  
  
All the while this was going on, the brunette just stood in place, seemingly a statue. She stood quietly, looking more towards her hands than anything else as if she didn't want to be there. The sudden hard toss of the broken beer bottle neck echoed across the back receiving area of J's Bar, the drunk man finding it productive to take out his drunken anger on the ground.  
  
"Hey, what's the disturbance here?"  
  
The bright glare of a flashlight temporarily blinded the camera, causing a slight lens flare. A low growl addressed the newcomer: "Oh it's you, Brad the Mall Cop. What's up, enjoying your free ride on the city's payroll?"  
  
"Trent! Stop it! N-nothing's wrong Brad…uh Officer Brad. We were just talking and stuff got out of hand that's all." Gwen for a moment seemed to almost avoid looking into the patrolman's eyes.  
  
"Yeah, mall cop. We was just  _talking_. Now go on home and like bake cookies for your cats. It's not like you got any woman at home waiting!" The drunk then lunges for the waitress, pulling her close, almost possessively so.  
  
The waitress struggles slightly in annoyance as he clings to her tightly. Trent lowly whispers barely audibly for the camera, "I'm so sorry, I'm a bit drunk baby, just a bit. I was just upset. I'll be good baby, alright? Don't worry about me."  
  
As the two talked, Gwen looked up to glance at Officer Brad. For a moment the quiet and timid man froze at the glance; he then slowly mouthed,  _why won't you just leave him?_  At that, Gwen could only look downwards then away. The officer then turned his head, clicking off his light to go back to patrol.  
  
<fast forwarding the video>  
  
The flash of a light again hits the camera. The glare of that same cop from earlier looked into the camera dead on. “I knew it...I...I don't want her involved!” The man looked terrified right before he swung his nightstick onto the camera.  
  
<camera feed disconnected>


	2. The Buzzing of Flies -2-

“That kid is so cute,” Jill remarks as both her and Gwen watch as a toddler waddles forward then falls onto a soft play blanket. A mop of red hair flew in front of the toddler's face before Gwen leans forward, pushing the mop out of her son's face.   
  
“Yeah, yeah a regular lady killer, this one! Aint that right, Tomas!” Gwen picks up the child, before hugging him close to her chest. “My little monster.”  
  
“So, you know there's only so many times I can put off putting him in Juvie, Gwen.”  
  
Gwen looks down placing the child back on the blanket, before smirking, “Yeah, I know. I know you are going out of your way for us, Ms. Valentine. You don't have to put your neck out for us yet you do. We appreciate it.”  
  
“Just Jill is fine, you know that. What I don't know is if it is reasonable to keep Trent out. He seems to not be doing as much as one would expect out of a new father. I mean, I know you are both young. I have pulled as many strings as I can because I know you both are struggling. Teen parents have it rough. But his drinking is making it harder to keep passing around papers. Eventually, I'm going to have to turn him in, Gwen.”  
  
“And then what Mi-...Jill? I can only make but so much at J's. He may not be doing a lot but he's doing something.”  
  
“Going by how close your power was cut off last month - according to you I might add - he's not doing much. I'm worried about you guys, Gwen. I'm worried that he isn't helping you and Tomas out enough.”  
  
“He -is- Jill! He's just trying and had a few mishaps is all...”  
  
“I...I can't keep turning a blind eye. He needs to clean up, or at least I need proof that this little monster at my feet is being provided for or I'll have to get CPS involved. This is beyond friendship, this is me doing what is required of my job and what is required for this child!”  
  
“...I...I understand. I'll talk it out with him. Maybe get more jobs under our belts.”  
  
The toddler beneath them grins up at them before flipping onto his side like a chubby turtle. The two sit quietly letting the boy's happiness clear the awkward air between them. On the other side of the small sitting room's door was Brad listening, a look of concern etched on his face. He unclenched the note in his fist with the handwritten note:  
  
 _Hell hath no fury than a mother's love._  
  
  
XxxxX   
  
“We need to make them Umbrella punks pay!” The large, bearded redhead near groundout that statement, his voice choking with emotion and anger. He like the others were covered in layers of sweat, blood, and bandaged wounds. The pilot could only wonder how bad things were on the field; he only recalled the nude monstrous thing with claws ready to annihilate the few survivors of his team.  
  
Chris only nodded before softly grumbling, “This night all our lives have changed. This is the night they took our comrades, took out trust. But no more. We have family, friends; the world needs to be told of what happened here.” Brad could see his fist clenching. The man looked like he wanted to punch the side of the aircraft, but looked towards the woman simply resting her head on his shoulder in exhaustion and thought better of it.   
  
They avoided looking at him, all beaten, shell-shocked and lucky to have their lives. He flew down, his guilt in running away pushing him back to that mysterious and creepy place. He thought that they'd be happy, even proud of him.  _See! I came back! I am helping! I didn't let fear conquer me!_  But Brad returned to just four left of their considerably sized group.  _Just four cause everyone else is dead._  
  
The shorter woman across from Chris and beside Barry, barely an adult and being thrown into the fire even longer than the rest of them sat in solemn silence. It seemed all of them lost so much down there. He couldn't claim the same. Could he? Brad could only hang his head in shame as he glided the chopper back to the landing pad by the R.P.D. As he steered the plane, he glanced at one of the rearview mirrors.  
  
The blue eyes of Jill stared straight ahead at him, narrowed and cold. Resentment shown in those eyes and all Brad could do was look away, guilt filling his mind and the faintness of tears in his eyes.  _How could he even dare look towards them when he had turned his back on them just hours before?_  He cautiously looked again to meet those tired eyes in his mirror –  but the glance she once held was gone.   
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _He's going to get me. I'm done for. Please let there be a way out. Please God let there be a way out. Hand bleeding, but no bites. No, I'm done. I know it. He's at my heels. God has long left us all behind. I don't blame Him._  
  
Brad tumbles into a small office at the R.P.D. He was only there to net a few more bullets. He hoped Irons wasn't here. Hell, he hoped no one was. Just a few more bullets out of his desk and then he can get to running.  _No cameras, right. Cameras are eyes. Eyes are death. Death is Him._  Brad rifled in anxiety driven panic his dresser. Nothing. Why not the Captain's? He ain't here now.  _Dead like the demon he is_ , the others said. Considering that, Brad went towards Wesker's desk.   
  
 _Shit. It's locked._  It was a simple key lock at that.  
  
As he looked around for something to try to break the drawer open, a small hidden case caught his eye. Metal; like one of those stereotypical spy cases in the movies that contain a bomb, money, drugs or something. It felt heavy. He softly placed it on its side. Brad pushed on the lock softly, flinching as he nearly expected it to explode in his face somehow.  
  
Instead, inside was a sheet of paper.   
  
 _Sub Order to Supervisor 12.  
  
Keep to the stated 3 objectives in the main report. A 4th objective is assigned to you. Not only monitor the guinea pig's behavior patterns but also if the fail safe shuts down to retrieve the chip inside. Viable research data is stored onto it and cannot be lost at any cost. Send reports directly through the noted channel in this doc, not to any other Superiors or Umbrella personnel._  
  
What is this about? What objectives and guinea pigs? This worried Brad even more. He needed to find Gwen and Tomas and if lucky Jill and get the hell out of here.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
“Do as I ask and I'll make sure you and your loved ones walk out alive. See to it she's in his path.” The cold, near lifeless voice said this on the phone receiver addressing him by name. It wasn't as if Brad expected the call, it just rang as he walked by the lone phone booth. He answered and was given these words. Words that he knew was for him given the matter of fact way it was stated. What does he take him for, a bastard?  _A deserter sure, but I can't...not after the mansion._    
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _Oh shit, not them! They move slowly though, I won't be their food today! Slimy, slow-moving freaks! I won't let you trick me-_  
  
Brad sideswipes a zombie already bloated green in decomposition off of himself before continuing to run. Brad peered at his bitten hand, already worried about the possibility of infection from it. Hopefully, he can find some anti-virus or a spray to stave it off. He raised his sidearm up hoping to peg a few of the dead yet not creatures and clear his way. He raised and aimed only to hear the sound of clicks reach his ears. No boom of gunfire like he expected.   
  
 _Shit!_  He was out of ammo. Panic had long set in; he just wanted to find them, Gwen too stubborn to leave. Something about waiting for that drunken asshole.  _Of course, she would. For what, some sense of obligation?! And now here I am trying to find her-!_  
  
The zombies. It's silent now. Where...where did they go? In that moment Brad realized two things. One, that he had his eyes scrunched shut and two that the zombies were all gone. As he slowly opened them again, his hair at the back of his neck stood on end.  A low very bass like growl made him turn as his eyes landed on someone no something glaring down at him. It seemed to be smiling this demented shark-toothed smile, drool and blood splatter disgusting accents to an already hideous face.   
  
Slowly, those teeth parted open before a long tongue slithered out, licking across the sharp protrusions smearing said blood and drool across them. And then...then it spoke, near tauntingly grunting out:  **“S.T.A.R.S.”**   _It can talk...it can talk and it knows what it's hunting._  That lone, corpse white eye glared at him before it slowly lidded half open. It then raised a large hand, it almost as big as Brad's head; a purple thing slid out of that palm wiggling and squirming. But the monster had done little else... as if it dared him to fight right then and there. Brad's heart was banging out of his rib cage as his body did the only thing his mind was capable of commanding it to do – run.  
  
He didn't care that today he was wearing his yellow vest or that he looked even more like a chickenshit. Scared eyes had in his near mindless run landed on what looked to be a gym door, battered but still solid. Brad ran and with a reserve of strength he didn't think he had, yanked the door open before running inside, yanking it closed.  
  
As he stepped inside, his eyes landed on a mass of survivors, many of them to be unarmed families, many just huddling and afraid of the hell that was outside. Some of them looked upon him with recognition, some hoping he'd stay to help. But he didn't answer. He was still flying high on adrenaline, too freaked out by the beast he stared at minutes ago. His skin, his whole body shook with shock as it seemed to recognize him, near taunting him.  
  
In fact, it didn't so much as attack him. But it wanted to...Brad could see his face reflected in that monster's eye - “Fuck! Don't touch me!” Brad snapped out-loud. A hand was all that touched him; a young mother stepped back in confusion from him. He could only look at her in confusion, then apology. His chest was burning.  _Wasn't this supposed to be over? Wasn't the Mansion blowing up to be the end of it?_  Feeling ashamed, Brad ran out of that room towards the hallway.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
35368.vid   
  
The inside of a disheveled library is seen. Medical documents are scattered amongst the books and stray vials all medical related. Farther away, tables with abandoned books sat. A figure in near black fatigues is rifling through paperwork near an open laptop. After gathering said docs, the figure lifts the laptop, typing into the small, green web terminal program. The camera panned forward before the electronic text was suddenly transposed onto the video screen in a bottom right corner in a video within a video function, allowing the reading of the screen while seeing the unnamed person on the laptop in the main portion of the video.  
 _  
> In process of doing objective #3.   
>Good. And of objective #4?  
>Guinea pig has encountered Vickers, off of its target setlist. It did not terminate but let him go.  
>Good. Directives are working as intended. Update when it encounters Valentine. Am very interested to see it go into lethal engagement procedure.  
>It has interestingly done things beyond its setlist though.  
>Elaborate.  
>In following Vickers, it decided to eliminate a whole gymnasium full of survivors unprovoked.   
>Survivors are potential witnesses. How is that off its directives?  
>In doing so, it ignored chasing down a main S.T.A.R.S. target. Noticeably, it was not efficient in said activity.  
>Interesting. Anything else.  
>Yes. While it did not terminate Vickers, it did go after relatives. It almost tried to provoke him into attack by doing so. This is not a directive imputed choice?  
>That indeed is outside of its scope. Will look into its internal camera and do on the fly tweaking-  
_  
Suddenly, a splash of red covered the laptop screen. The laptop was pulled out of the now dead man's hands, his brain matter splashed across the laptop and floor. His head now had a well-placed bullet hole exiting the front of his head.  
  
“Sorry, comrade. But I don't share glory, nor money,” a man with a thick accent chided at the still warm body. He smirked as he dragged the laptop out of the dead man's hands. “Interesting...seems there are mice running about after all.” As he went to type something in the open prompt, the window abruptly closed without his input. The newcomer merely smirked before closing the laptop, securing it away in his backpack.  
  
As the grey-haired man walked away out of the range of the camera, the second window in the video recording was still open. The green text changed from the abruptly ended conversation to more complex text:  
 _  
> Yes. While it did not terminate Vickers, it did go after relatives. It almost tried to provoke him into attack by doing so. This is not a directive imputed choice?  
>That indeed is outside of its scope. Will look into its internal camera and do on the fly tweaking-  
>...  
>...  
>....Russian Filth. You will not harm My child nor My progress.  
  
**<System Open>  
)Admin  
<NEMESIS System Archives>  
>command tree ]  
>p1  
>p2  
>p3  
>p4  
>p5  
*edit*  
Directive change y/n  
y  
>Edit Target List  
<Target List change approved.>  
>b5 Added approved Targets  
a - Nikolai Zinoviev  
b – Brad Vickers  
<Directive change approved>  
Done with edits? Y/n  
y  
exit <NEMESIS System Archives>  
_  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
The corpse of a boy sat on the ground.  The small corpse was still warm. He knew because of the flush of red all on his cheeks was still there, no doubt from fear on his 6-year-old face. The blood of Tomas was everywhere. And then it left – that monster lurking looking so pleased with itself covered in that boy's blood. Umbrella makes ready-made demons now.  
  
 _I can't. I-I....I don't have time to grieve yet with the death of that boy, my line is dead._    
  
  
XxxxX  
  
5643.vid   
  
The camera seems shaky as it followed the viewer wherever the head tilted. The beauty of the multicolored sky caught halfway between sunrise and the remnants of the night was captured in its striking beauty. The sound that filled the video was nothing but the whirring blades of a chopper. The view panned upwards as a ladder was dropped down to the viewer.  
  
Black gloved hands climbed quickly up the steps climbing into the waiting plane's cockpit. The plane itself was unmarked, the pilot wearing nothing identifiable.   
  
“We are heading to rendezvous with the main team, Mason,” the pilot informed as they turned the camera towards the city outskirts. The new arrival nodded in acceptance, opening up the suitcase. Notes and samples were sitting nestled within. He opened up the laptop to confirm this to the team lead.  
 _  
> Samples and observational notes were recovered and are in hand.  
>Including notes on the G viral tests and objective #4?  
>Yes, Sir.   
>Exemplary work, Supervisor 13. You will be rewarded after this last extraction mission the pilot should be in route to. Prep for cool European weather. If this mission goes well, I will ensure you a new placement, under future call. Payment will be sent within next week.  
>Thanks, Sir. I am privileged to be on your team. I will enclose the head cam as requested as well.  
_  
The conversation ends as Mason closes the transmission. The shift of the camera moving around denoted him removing the small pin camera before it going black.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
Brad slowly moves away from the B.O.W.'s line of sight, shaking, hoping that he wasn't seen. Slowly he moved around the piles of boxes filled with sports gear creeping, slowly hoping to get to a side hall. As he moved, Brad felt a shiver go down his spine  _as...did...was that beast **laughing?!**_  For a moment, the man swore that the monster broke into an inhumanly low laugh as if it knew exactly where the man was. This was a game to it...a sick, cruel game.  
  
He barely could keep the bile rising from his throat in, repressing the anger and absolute dread he held towards the monster to quickly run down the hall only to feel himself collide with another body-  
  
 _Gwen?! Someone's alive! Someone who can come with and give me hope! And then she and I can find Jill and get the fuck out of here-_  
  
She pulls away from him, her eyes cold. “Gwen?” Brad asks her tentatively only to feel cold all over again. The same glare Jill had given him, the same look that had him keep to himself after the mansion was now on Gwen's face, the fiery redhead's face tracked with tears.  
  
“You left him to die.”  
  
He couldn't look her in the eye. He couldn't lie to her either.  _I...there was nothing I could have done to save him._  
  
“You should have died protecting him.”   
  
“Gwen...ple-”  
  
“I would rather die with my son than walk with you.  **My**  son; you don't deserve that title.”  
  
She then curtly turns away from him, ignoring Brad's yells for her to come back, her eyes filled with both rage and a brokenness. None of the softness and warmth that she reserved for him was there. Those eyes were Brad's world. Their son was hers.  
  
He could only do what he did best, Brad's sense of self-preservation overriding his need to be a hero.  _I earned that nickname well_. As he ran Brad saw her staring down death. That stare of hers worked on her 'husband', drunk somewhere not even here to stop this, who'd probably try to.   
  
Her eyes dripped with diamonds, beautiful and cold. Flawless despite no one even able of being such a thing. She bled and bled as monstrous hands made flaws appear on her skin. Death doesn't give a shit about stares as he ripped her apart right where she stood. Death and cowards are a fool's match.   
  
  
XxxxX  
  
 _Damnit, damnit, damn where is she! I have to find her, she's dealt with this crazy shit directly before. She stuck it out where I...I didn't._  
  
He collapses onto the ground into a small hidden nook. Softly, he began to weep;  _I am a coward after all_. Brad wanted to just sit here and let death come. But his bleary eyes looked up to see the ex S.T.A.R.S. rear security rush by.   
  
“Jill, wait!”  
  
He saw her and felt relief for the first time in hours. Brad lost her from before and now they both were by the police station.  _Maybe we can find a plane and get the hell out of here!_  Brad waved at her, seeing her brunette hair tousle in his direction. As the pilot let out a breath, a flash of darkness followed by a loud thud hitting ground blocked his view of her.   
  
His body went rigid with fear; a large hand scooped him up by the throat with little effort.  
  
 _I begged. Oh God, I had no shame in begging.  
  
I looked behind my head.  
  
Jill had lowered her gun. Those intense eyes locked with mine for one long moment and that coldness, that anger was there, it filling those eyes as the woman did nothing._  
  
“BRAD!?”  _Was she yelling for me? Was those gunshots? No, she couldn't, she wouldn't waste them on a coward like me. That's my heart beat raging. Right?  
  
She just stood there, yelling...but I can't hear what Jill was screaming as panic was setting in. Death doesn’t care how brave you are as it comes regardless. I could only whimper as that palm raised upwards, the purple-black thing in the middle of said palm writhing, the chill of certain destruction imminent.   
  
I only wanted to fly-_  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
Sept281998.vid  
  
The video was grainy; track lines flickered across the screen. The sound of tape distortion was high but it did not cover up the sounds:  
  
“Brad! Move out the way!”  
  
“BRAD!!?” The upset and worried voice of Jill rang across the Police Department front gate. The pilot looked almost frozen in place, a small tear emerging from the corner of his eye as he was quickly grabbed and hung roughly from the monster's grip.  
  
Suddenly the video jump cut as if this clip and another were for some reason cut together. It was very possible that the same tape was used for the new footage. A team of near 10 people were standing outside of a completely new building, the silhouette of an unmarked plane hovering near. A large tube of  _U_ mbrella design was being lifted by cart into the plane. It was large, inhumanly so as if a giant of some sort was residing inside. As the large tubule was placed inside, a tall man in matching black fatigues watched, his face the only thing uncovered. He observed everything with a passive near emotionally dead face, his green eyes the only things denoting his excitement in the matter.   
  
He walked by the tube patting it softly as he climbed inside the plane.  
  
The video jump cuts again, showing Brad's motionless body, crumpled in a heap and forgotten, left to the decay of the town.  
  
  
XxxxX  
  
the feel of movement in the nose, the eyes  
limbs ache  
mind blank  
 _can only see forward now_  
the sight of a small creature on the tip of the nose  
the buzzing is everywhere  
it crawled out of the flesh tunnel  
another out of the fold of the eye its wings blowing across dead flesh  
 _a crown of flies for the lord of them all in death shambling forth_  
teeth needed to taste red now

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on dA in 2015.


End file.
